Forbidden Territory
by Nova-Janna
Summary: She was aware of the infamous makeout spot... And what happens when a slightly pathetic Hermione Granger decides to cross into such forbidden territory? HGDMIt starts out a little angsty, but doesn't end that way


**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

**A/N: So random things occur to me at random times. You'll live, I'm sure. I really like this story. **

Hermione was aware of the infamous make-out spot up at Hogsmeade. She was aware that many, many students in her year went there at every Hogsmeade trip, whether with a girlfriend or boyfriend or a random person who they thought was good enough to take. She was also aware that Harry and Ron and been up there on a number of occasions, though they would never tell her, heaven forbid. She probably wouldn't have taken it very well if they had.

And that is because, most of all, Hermione Granger is aware that she will never go up there. She has confined herself to a life in the library, classrooms, and the occasional late-night trip to the restricted section of the library. Not that she, Harry, and Ron hadn't been on enough adventures after-hours to give them fabulous reputations.

Indeed, that was the little fact that kept Harry and Ron in the good book of most of the girls at the school. They'd made it into the top five of Hogwarts 10 Most Shaggable Guys, as voted on by the girls from fourth year and up. After they'd had their last of those excursions, Harry and Ron had flourished in the fame. They got along fabulously with everyone, were invited to what few parties there were at Hogwarts, and were generally living in the limelight.

Hermione, however, had not flourished. She couldn't even begin to understand how the social ladder functioned, mostly since she was constantly wondering _why_ it was like that. So she let the boys get on with there fun, kept to herself, and kept few friends. Harry and Ron, as it may be presumed, did not desert her altogether. They simply did not have as much time for her as she would have liked.

It was a Friday night in the just-barely-spring part of the year when Hermione threw down her book. She was a little tired of reading for four hours straight, and had decided to find her way to Hogsmeade. She knew where all the parties were, who was hosting them, and why they were being held. But she wasn't going to any parties. She was going to the infamous make-out spot, just to see it. And she didn't need to have a guy with her either. It was simply a journey into forbidden territory.

As she trudged through the worn streets, she recognized music and even a few voices from a few of the smaller houses. Slytherins and Gryffindors were renowned for rivaling parties, which really wasn't all that surprising, and almost every Friday they tried to outdo each other. They had several impartial judges who would walk through and grade the parties. Hermione had often wondered if she could have done that. But no, she was a Gryffindor, people barely remembered her, and she would be too conspicuous.

The woods around her grew thicker as she walked. There was a large tree, they said, easy to climb, easy to sit in, or lie in, whichever. Hidden, quiet, dark. Perfect. There were no noises coming from the tree; over the months, years, the students had learned to be discreet lest some poor old folk come out for a nightly stroll. Hermione gingerly climbed the tree, marveling at how bright the stars looked, even through the branches.

She climbed and climbed and climbed, ignoring the few people on either side of her. There were faint rustling which grew quieter and quieter as she climbed. She finally came to a branch that looked strong enough to support her, and wide enough to feel safe on. She placed herself cautiously on the branch, back against the trunk. It wasn't such a bad make-out spot, though she couldn't really speak in the technical sense.

"Granger," spoke a hissing, harsh voice from the other side of the tree trunk.

She spun around, looking into Draco Malfoy's eyes. He was good looking, something which came as no surprise to her. He was alone as well, she noticed with shock. Draco Malfoy did not come to the make out tree all alone. Did he?

"What Malfoy?" She replied tiredly, hoping the pause hadn't been too long.

"You're in my spot."

"I hadn't realized," she replied sarcastically, not budging.

"Of course you hadn't. Never expected to see the likes of you here. But you are alone. Having a pity party, I suppose?"

"How'd you know?"

"Granger, just move and save us both a lot of air."

"No. I don't see you with anyone either."

"She was supposed to meet me here. You probably scared her off. Or she thinks I'm two-timing her."

"Aren't you?"

"Four-timing is more like it. Or is it five? I don't remember."

"That's fascinating, really…"

"Move over, at least. I'll share my damn branch with you if I have to."

"I didn't realize Malfoy's shared," Hermione replied, moving over just enough to let him get by.

"They don't, not usually," he replied, settling himself a little farther out on the branch.

"But you're making an exception for me. I feel so special."

"Cut the crap Granger, honestly." He paused for an instance, gazing at her thoughtfully. "Why did you come out of hiding?"

"I figured I'd see what this infamous tree looked like." She looked at him sternly. "With or without a guy to make out with."

"I can see that much."

"Well, I like it here. It sucks for me that it's a make-out spot."

"I could just make your wildest dreams come true and turn it into a make-out spot," he replied in a monotone voice. Hermione was a little surprised, but not enough to be caught off guard.

"And become just like all those other girls? I don't think so Malfoy."

"Granger..." He began, sounding as if he were quickly tiring of their little game. "You know you want to make out with me."

"In a tree, snogging with none other than Draco Malfoy? Wow, how'd you know?"

"Seriously."

"Seriously. I don't want to make out with you. Not in a tree, not on the ground, not any where."

"It's not like I'm asking."

"Funny, I got the implication-"

"Granger, honestly. I don't have to _ask_ girls to make out with me."

"Will you kiss anything on two legs with breast Malfoy?"

He smirked. "Possibly."

"Even a mudblood, huh?"

"Only if I know the mudblood wants me."

"Think about how much sense that makes."

"Granger, how about this? No kissing, just the telling of our innermost secrets. Under total confidence."

"What are you on?"

He smirked again. "Nothing Granger. But I'm serious. No blackmail, just someone who can keep our secrets to themselves."

"I suppose, though I still don't trust you. You can start."

He gave a soft, slightly sinister chuckle. Hermione looked at him in expectation. "Fair enough, I suppose. If I start, you should be warned I'm not starting with the less-than-shocking."

"I think I'm brave enough for your innermost wants, fears, and needs."

"Wonderful." He paused once again, giving her an appraising look. Seemingly satisfied with what he saw, whether it was her trustworthiness or something more, he began. "I've slept with over fifteen girls, and I never, ever enjoyed it."

"Are we allowed to delve deeper into these revelations?"

"Yes. Fully. And all answers must be truthful."

"Sounds fair. Before I give you one of my secrets, I'll question yours. Why?"

"Because. I've always firmly believed you sleep with who you love and have some passion with. My reputation, however, did not correspond with my beliefs."

"So you chose your reputation? I don't think anyone would have thought less of you."

"Would they have thought more?"

Hermione shrugged. "Honestly? I think it could have gone either way."

He sighed, genuine remorse written all over his face. "My first was Pansy. Surprise, surprise, right? But I thought I loved her. Maybe I did. But there wasn't enough passion; it almost felt more like a duty than anything. And I suppose the reputation of being a bad-boy player was something I wanted to live up to."

"That's one for you, none for me. How about this? I don't want to be with Ron and Harry, but I do."

"That makes sense, actually. Not that I speak from experience."

"Of course not. A sexy Slytherin bad-boy player like yourself?"

"You think I'm sexy?"

"I'm just stating your reputation, Malfoy," she stated simply, questioning herself all the while. He was smirking again, which annoyed her and appealed to her at the same time. "Anyways, I want to be with them because I want to know what it would be like to live like they do know. In the limelight; popular. At the same time, though, I want to be here, sitting in a tree, and-"

"And talking with Slytherin's sexy bad-boy player?"

"That wasn't part of the plan actually."

"Then what? To stray into forbidden territory?"

"Glimpse the unknown, and the never-will-be-known."

"Of course it'll never be known Granger, if you don't make out with someone."

"Are you coming on to me?"

"Maybe. Why?"

"I don't think anyone has ever done that before."

"Stop with the pity party already Granger."

"Fine, Mister Malfoy. I believe it is your turn to share."

"I think I like guys."

"That came out of nowhere," Hermione replied, shocked enough to lose her perfect positioning on the tree for just a second. "Are you serious?"

"Guys and girls Granger, honestly. Besides, you know you like thinking of me making out with another guy almost much as you like to think of me making out with you."

"Actually Malfoy…." She began, working with the idea of defending herself. Quickly though, she changed her mind, deciding instead to shock him. "It depends on which guy."

"Maybe Harry. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" He purred, coming closer.

Hermione didn't back up, just grinned over at him through the dark. "Imagine a Malfoy being gay."

"The other young men of Hogwarts will be happy."

Hermione laughed. "And the girls devastated."

"Why?"

"Because they won't have you for themselves anymore. Anyways, it's my turn. I was raped when I was sixteen."

He gaped at her, and Hermione felt a strange sense of pride at having shocked Draco Malfoy. "That was last year," he managed, still in shock.

Hermione nodded. "Right after we became famous."

"Are the two events connected in some way?"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe. Just some man in a train station. That was my first and only time." She stopped, studying his face. He looked genuinely….Something. Something she couldn't place. But it was a real feeling, she was sure. "Don't be so shocked. I've gotten over it."

"Do Potter and Weasley know?" He whispered.

Hermione laughed, though it seemed to be a cruel laugh with little humour involved. "Of course not. Those two have little time for me, what with all the girls and partying."

"That's awful."

"And you're the only one who knows. Apart from me and the mystery man, of course."

"You seem so cold about it."

"When life gives you lemons….Besides, am I supposed to be weak? Crying all the time? Forever traumatized? I don't think so."

"You should be able to cry. Did you ever? Cry about it, I mean."

"No."

"Would you like to?"

"ON your shoulder?"

"Yes."

"No. I've gotten over it. Besides, your reputation-"

"Shouldn't matter at all."

"You can't suddenly be caring. It would shift the universe."

This earned another laugh from him, an easy, calm laugh. "My turn. This is actually a secret I share with Potter, believe it or not." She looked at him curiously, and he gave her a cautious smile. "I was planning on grabbing a girl, pulling her into a room, and kissing with her for a while. Along comes Potter, who I thought was the girl, and I pull him in and start kissing him. Scary thing-"

"Scarier than that?"

"Yes. He kissed back."

"Harry has a strange attraction to Draco Malfoy. Amazing. What did you do?"

"Played it cool. I believe I said it was a dare or something. Then he threatened me and you are the only person I've ever told."

"Because he threatened you?"

"Because I didn't want everyone to know I'd made out with Harry Potter, intentional or not."

"Of course. My turn, right?" At his nod, she spoke again. Leaning in closer to him, she continued huskily. "My confession is that I sometimes have _very _dirty thoughts about you, Harry and I. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"Granger, when the hell did you get so bold?"

"When I climbed into forbidden territory."

"Our easy, relaxed discussion just got a lot less relaxed."

"I'll back away if you'd like," Hermione replied slowly, leaning back as she spoke. He grabbed her shoulders.

"I don't know Granger. Let's make this territory a little less forbidden."

"And I'll join the ranks of all those other girls…"

"No, Granger. You're something different. They don't know my deepest secrets. They never will."

"I suppose."

"Besides, I want to know about these fantasies."

"I knew you liked kissing Harry."

"And I never denied it," he replied easily before pushing her back against the trunk and kissing her roughly.

Hermione was aware the forbidden territory had, as he had said, become a lot less forbidden. She was aware that she wasn't suddenly part of that popular pretty crowd that she might have belonged to. She was aware that she was making out with her sworn enemy in a make out tree, her head holding all his deepest, darkest secrets, and his head containing hers. She was aware of all this by the time they were back at the castle together, fumbling around the hallways, still kissing, falling into empty classrooms every so often.

She was aware she was number seventeen of the girls he'd slept with, and that she was number seventeen to wake up under his sheets, next to his bare chest. But she was also aware that he knew there was passion. She was aware that he knew he was her second. And somehow, that meant something to her. And the next morning, when Harry and Ron talked to her, _really_ _talked to her,_ for the first time in months, she couldn't help but feel there was a connection.

So journeying into forbidden territory wasn't as hopeless as she'd thought.

**A/N: Why I write two of these every story is simply so I can nag you in the end note to Review. Please. Also, if you have more ideas for their confessions, improvements, nothing too raunchy, I'd be happy to add them and repost this. Thanks loads!**


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